


schoolgirls in over their heads

by annica



Series: the milkshake place is falling down [1]
Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Arrowfam, Gen, post Invasion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 19:51:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/739471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annica/pseuds/annica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If this is just another courtesy visit from another concerned family member or friend, she’s going to break someone’s nose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	schoolgirls in over their heads

**Author's Note:**

> Part one of a collection of Arrowfam fics set post Invasion. Working with a headcanon that I've had for quite a while.

When the doorbell rings, it takes her by surprise. It’s been so long since she’s heard that bell; the sound is foreign to her. It startles her.

She’s not used to the doorbell being rung.

Well, maybe she was, once – but now, it’s ignored as everyone makes their own ways in. She’s left a spare key under the front doormat, and almost everyone who stops by knows where to find it. Bart uses it the most; coming in and plopping down on the floor. He’ll play with Brucely and tell her everything and anything that has occurred in his day while she reaches into the still overfilled fridge and makes him a meal.

(She still can’t get out of the habit of buying enough groceries for  _him_. She’s tried, but she can’t escape it.)

Barry used to come over a fair bit too, mostly with Bart, but he has been much busier than usual of late - with the twins being born a month ago. After visiting Iris in the hospital, Artemis “promised” that she would go to Central City often to visit the little Don and Dawn, but things always “came up”, and she never got around to it.

(Bart confesses to her that he feels awkward being around his dad and aunt as babies. Artemis is with him in that same feeling with the newborn twins, just not for the same reasons.)

The doorbell is never used by Mary and Rudy either. They have  _his_  old key, and after the common visits within that first month, where the three of them would sift through objects and organize things, Artemis was once again compelled to make a promise. A promise that those visits of swallowing back tears and trying not to disturb any ghosts wouldn’t be the only times that they would see her.

(This promise, she actually keeps – along with the one of being sure to visit her mother every week. Honestly though, when it comes to Paula Crock, you never really get much of an alternative when it comes to promises.)

Others from the team will also come around and open the door with the spare key. Most of the time it’s M’gann, who carries a baked good or large meal every time she lets herself in through the door (as if the fridge isn’t already busting with food). If Artemis is lucky, Gar or Conner will be tagging along, and she’s able to push some of the food back onto them when M’gann’s not watching.

Most of the time however, the meals are practically force-fed to Bart. Artemis decides that she’s become the witch from Hansel and Gretel; feeding him up for her own purposes.

(After the sixteenth night in a month that she’s gotten a concerned call from Joan Garrick about Bart’s lack of appetite, she gets herself in the habit of throwing the excess food out. She tries not to think about  _he_  would moan towards such a waste of food.)

There are some parties that don’t use the spare key however – yet, contrary to what one would think, that doesn’t mean the doorbell is used. One of the more annoying culprits is Jade. Sometimes, Artemis wonders about her older sister’s obsession with picking the lock of the front door  _every freaking time_ , and from the comments that she can usually hear Roy grumble through the door, she’s not the only one. But she doesn’t bother questioning it, or stopping it; there’s really no telling what Jade would try next if Artemis did stop her from finding her way in.

Roy has a little more courtesy at least, fumbling for the spare key while also making sure the now-walking Lian doesn’t decide to wander too far. Artemis  _has_  told him to let her know when he’s here, so she can open the door for him and he doesn’t have to go through the precarious dance every time, but he’s insistent that he can do it himself, that he  _has_ to do it himself.

(She doesn’t miss what he mumbles out when he picks up Lian from her one night. Artemis assures him that watching his daughter for the night was “a piece of cake”, and he rubs at his eyes and lets out a sigh: “I wish it was like that most of the time.”)

The other keyless trespasser is Dick, but he’s favoured his own entry of the guest room’s window since Artemis and… _he_ first moved into the apartment. That window hasn’t been shut in years.

He doesn’t spend a lot of the time talking – not like he used to. Granted, part of the fault is Artemis’, with her habit of only ever bringing up small talk, but either one of them will let the conversation die off in the early stages.

(As soon as she mentions work – the gig – he tenses up and closes off everything. He probably thinks he’s not being that overt about it, but she can tell he’s hiding something. There are only so many times Dick can pull his tricks with someone before they’re able to see right through him.)

But even with the  _insane_  amount of people that have dropped in uninvited to the apartment over the past six months, the doorbell has been rung in almost none of those times. Artemis had basically forgotten that there was one; but now, as it’s ringing for the second time, being followed by a knock, she shakes herself of her confusion and pulls a barking Brucely away from the door.

(She doesn’t needs to pull too hard. The dog sniffs around at the door for a moment before looking dejectedly down at the floor and slinking off. Artemis can tell immediately from Brucely’s behaviour that it’s not  _him_  – not that she thought it was of course –  _that would be stupid_.)

The first thing she picks up is the goatee.  _Always. The goatee_. She holds back on mentioning it aloud however; her old mentor has show sensitivity about his beloved goatee before, and really, it’s only fun to pick on when Roy’s around.

“I’ve told you that there’s a key under the mat.”

“Hello to you too, Artemis.” He steps through the opened door and looks around carefully, as if he’s inspecting the place, making sure she hasn’t completely lost it and messed the place up – or just given up and begun neglecting it. Trying to ignore his obvious scrutiny, Artemis walks through to the kitchen and keeps her eyes focused on the kettle as she fills it with water.

“How’ve you been?” She hears from behind her, as she takes her time to turn on the kettle.

Fingers twitching with frustration, she immediately shoots a question of her own right back at him. “How’s Dinah?” In the moment of silence that follows her question, she wants to smack her head on the wall and instantly take it back. The problems Ollie and Dinah have been having are definitely  _not_ the place to start a conversation at, and the fact that she’s using just to avoid answering a question herself is low.  _Way_  low.

But of course, Artemis just needs to add  _more_  guilt to the shitload she already has when it comes to Ollie.

She turns away from the kitchen bench to face him. “Sorry,” she mutters. “That was bitchy.”

Ollie shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. I get it. I spent a good while yelling at Captain Atom and Bats today, so I really can’t tell you off for that.”

Artemis smirks. “Did you at least get Batman to change his expression for once?”

“Not a bit.”

The wailing kettle cuts through and pierces the room back into silence when Artemis pulls it off. She’s actually surprised that she hadn’t heard about this apparent blew in the Watchtower before now. With the Team working in the same area as the League now, the average gossip amount within the Team has doubled – especially when it comes to the younger kids. There’s really nothing you can get away with in the Watchtower these days without everyone knowing within an hour.

“She’s alright though,” Ollie says as Artemis sits down and hands him a mug. “Dinah, that is. She’s…you know. It’s a lot of work and all.”

Artemis nods. One of the things that most definitely has  _not_  missed the gossip grapevine of the Watchtower, is the obvious problems that Green Arrow and Black Canary have been having since the League’s leadership was handed to Canary. Roy and Artemis have both tried to talk to their old mentors about it, tried to explain to them: if it’s causing so much trouble, why doesn’t Dinah just give the leadership to someone else? But neither Dinah nor Ollie will have any of that, both adamant that they can work through it, and things will get better soon enough.

“We would’ve come over a lot earlier,” Ollie adds, “and more often, if it weren’t for all this. We tried…”

Artemis waves him off. “It’s fine. Besides, between everyone else’s constant visits and missions with the Team, I don’t think I have any free time for you, anyway.” She smiles wryly as she gets a chuckle out of Ollie.

“So,” she continues, “are you just here for your own ‘check up on Artemis’ mission, or did you come for another reason?”

“It’s been six months, and you’re a big girl, Artemis. I don’t think I need to check up on you.” She gives him a measured look, but eventually eases off. She can usually count on Ollie to trust her to be able to handle her own problems herself. “And yes,” he adds, “I am here for something else. How could you tell?”

“You’ve had a death grip on that file ever since you walked in.”

He looks down at the file as if he’s only just remembering he’s holding it, before handing it over to Artemis. “I’ve got a little proposal for you,” he says as her fingers dart across the file and open it up. “Read through that.”

Artemis raises an eyebrow, but starts reading anyway. “’Cissie King-Jones’,” she mutters, before glancing back up at Ollie. “Who is she?”

Ollie snorts. “Just another fifteen year old girl who thinks she’s ready to tackle the Big Bads.” A glare is shot at him almost immediately, and Ollie holds his hands up in surrender as he continues. “She jumped me while I was on patrol two weeks back,” he explains. “Jumped me, and immediately started begging to be my sidekick.”

Artemis rolls her eyes. Of course Ollie would be intimidated by another teenaged girl and go to her about it. “And let me guess, you’ve let her,” she says, “haven’t you?”

“Well…” One of the surrendered hands twist in a ‘so-so’ gesture. “Not exactly…”

Artemis shakes her head. “Ollie,  _why_  are you telling me about a girl who may or may not be your new protégé? Is this because of how Roy reacted when I first became your protégé? Because you do realize that none of us are dumb enough to think we’re being ‘replaced’ anymore, right?”

“It’s not that. And I never said she was  _my_ protégé.”

Artemis pushes two fingers to her temple. “Then why are you showing these to me?”

The joking and darting around is pushed aside, and Ollie looks at her solemnly. “Read the files, Artemis.”

She sighs and releases some obscenities from her head and look back down at the file. “'Suzanne King-Jones, also known as Cissie. Mother: Bonnie King. Father: Bernell Jones, decea’-why am I doing this?”

“Keep reading.” Artemis looks down at the file, taking a moment to hastily brush back hair that’s clinging to her face. About a month ago, she made the mistake of chopping most of her locks off to sit at chin length (it was  _not_ a lapse in mentality, thank you very much –  _she just needed a change_ ). She thought that her hair would be more manageable at a shorter length, but it had proven to be just the opposite, and she would often find herself trying to get the traitorous strands out of her face.

“'Bernell Jones: Well known, Star City reporter. Discovered to be killed on his way home from work one night, in early 2011. His death is suspected to be a successful assassination by operatives of the League of Sha’- are these League files?” She looks back up at Ollie, but notes the impatient look. “Okay, fine. ‘Cissie, aged nine, was handed into the custody of her mother, Bonnie King.’”

Artemis huffs at a strand of hair that has decided to once again fall over her face. “Still don’t know why I’m doing this…” she mutters.

“'Bonnie King, representative in USA archery team in Olympic years 1988, 1992 and 1996. After a shocking performance in the 1996 Olympics, and the discovery of an early developed carpal tunnel syndrome in her wrists, King was forced to retire from the sport.

“'Starling Middle School teachers reported Cissie as being a hardworking and extremely athletic student, quite often going far beyond what is expected, or could be considered healthy for her. Suspicions about Cissie’s home life arose in the school after watching the girl’s behaviour, and were confirmed through seeing Ms King’s emotional treatment of her daughter during the schools athletic carnival one year. However, before action could be made to enquire about this behaviour, Cissie was pulled from the school and sent to another across the city.’” Artemis tries to hold back the frown that wants to cross her face.

“'Cissie King-Jones has been to a total of three middle schools and two high schools around Star City in the past four years, reported by most teachers as a diligent student. She is shown to be highly-proficient in a wide range of physical skills, such as judo, gymnastics, kick-boxing and,’  _of course_ , ‘archery.’”

She slaps the file shut and drops it onto the coffee table. “Okay. That’s it.” She looks back towards Ollie. “Are you going to tell me what this is about now?”

“Does she remind you of anyone?”

Artemis frowns. Of course she does. Frankly, she’s curious as to whether Ollie went searching for a kid with the closest background to her own and encouraged them to put on a costume. “Where are you going with this, Ollie?”

“Okay, okay.” He puts down his mug and leans forward on the sofa. “Look, I told Cissie – or…Arrowette, as she’s calling herself – that I would be happy to help her out and mentor her if she really wanted this.”

Artemis nods slowly. “And…the catch?”

“I…think there’s another option.”

Artemis stares at him, eyebrows creasing up in confusion. “You’re not thinking- I- No! I can’t- What would make you think-…” She brings her hands up to her head and presses the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. He can’t be serious.

“Come on, Artemis. I think you’ll be great for it.”

“Ollie!” She pulls her hands away and looks at him desperately. “I don’t know how to mentor someone! I-I won’t be great for it at all!”

“Why not?” He shrugs. “You’ve been doing a good job with Bart. And he’s got a completely different skillset to you.”

“That’s…” she runs a hand through her hair, “different. And besides, I’m not  _mentoring_ him. I’m just…looking out for him, that’s all.”

Ollie snorts. “That’s part of being someone’s mentor, Artemis. You look out for them. You help teach them. You…” His hands wave around as he tries to explain further. “You be their friend and someone they can confide in. You know how to do that, Artemis; you’ve done it before.” Artemis stares into the mug of tea between her hands and watches the tiny ripples on the surface. “And I don’t just mean what you’ve been doing with Bart; you’ve also helped with some of the other younger kids. Robin, Wonder Girl…hell, you and the others were mentoring Beast Boy for years – without the help of anyone in the league.”

The ripples are starting to fade and residue from the teabag is beginning to settle on the bottom of the mug. Artemis continues to stare into the mug, before tipping her head back and sculling the rest of the drink.

“Artemis.” Ollie’s voice is low and he tries to meet her eyes. “You’ll be a great mentor. And I think you’ll be good for her.”

She licks her lips. “Is that  _really_ why you’re suggesting this? Because you think it’ll be good for Cissie? Or because you actually think it’ll be good for me?”

“I think it’ll be good for both of you.” She finally lifts her eyes to meet his. “You and this kid have a lot in common, Artemis. She could use someone who has a pretty good idea of she’s had to go through. And yes,” he raises a hand, “I’ll admit, I think it’ll be good for you to have something to do that isn’t holing yourself up in this place when you’re not on a mission for the team.”

She opens her mouth to tell him that  _she’s not holing herself up – she’s just been busy,_ but her traitorous tongue slips and she instead speaks the fear that’s clawing at the front of her mind. “I’m not putting on the green again, Ollie,” she whispers. “I can’t.”

“No-one’s expecting you to.” He shrugs. “Though, it would be good if you picked up a bow again. A  _proper_ bow.” Artemis smirks at the face he pulls. “Not one of those silly little crossbows.”

“Are you  _always_  going to have a problem with my crossbows?”

“Most likely.”

For the first time since Ollie’s stepped through the door, Artemis lets herself relax, and sinks back against the couch. “Alright,” she sighs. “I’ll…at least meet her and see how it goes. But Ollie.” She narrows her eyes. “If she’s as much of a pain in the ass as I was when I was fifteen, then screw it – she’ll be your problem to deal with. Got it?”

Her old mentor pouts. “Well, come on now,” he says. “That’s just no fair.”

Artemis shrugs. “Hey. You brought this on yourself.”

* * *

It must be almost two years since she’s been to the diner, yet, as she walks in, she notes that basically nothing has changed. Not that she’s surprised; her and Red Arrow have estimated that the diner hasn’t has a renovation since the eighties. The owner, Franco, likes to emphasise that “authenticity is the most important thing” – more important than ambience or common hygiene it seems – and refuses any notion of adjusting the diner’s interior in any way.

(Sometimes Artemis wonders whether part of it has to do with the fact that  _the_  Green Arrow enjoys it so much. Hell – she wouldn’t put it past Ollie to be paying Franco to make sure it stays exactly the same.)

She greets Franco as she walks in (“Hair’s gone!” He exclaims, pointing to her head), and slips into a seat at “Green Arrow and his musketeers” usual booth.

“Still caramel-malted?” Franco calls out from behind the counter, and Artemis sends him a nod. Whilst Franco has managed to “conveniently” forget some things for them over the years (identities and midnight careers, mostly), he’s always right on with the milkshake orders. Caramel-malted for her, honeycomb for Ollie, Choc-banana for Red Arrow, and, in the few times he’s come, peppermint Arsenal.

She drums her fingers on the table and watches the street outside as she waits. This was a horrible idea. Stupid, crazy, insane, horrible, horrible idea. She should just get up and leave now – before it’s too late and she’s sucked into this. She can just call Ollie later and tell him that she’s not up for it. That she was wrong – he was wrong – she can’t do this.

She’s just about to jump up and bolt when a milkshake is place in front of her, and the entrance bell rings, and Ollie, in uniform, steps inside with a teenaged girl.

(Her hair is blonde and falls loose down to her waist and Artemis reminds herself for the millionth time in the month to never, ever, cut her hair again.)

Ollie directs the girl towards Artemis, and sends a wave to Franco. Cissie, in an oddly formal manner (Artemis wonders if the younger girl is as nervous as she is right now), stands in front of the table and holds out a hand. Artemis shakes it, and Cissie forces out a smile. “Hi Artemis- or…Tigress, I mean. Uh…”

“Hi. Cissie.”

Before the atmosphere in the booth is able to get too awkward, Ollie joins them and sits across from Artemis with Cissie. “I take it you two have introduced yourselves?” He asks, getting two stiff, quiet nods in return. After waiting for a moment in hope that the silence will break, he turns to Cissie. “Arrowette, how about…you tell Tigress about that time you saw us on patrol?” Artemis restrains the instinct to roll her eyes.

“Uh, sure.” Cissie meets Artemis’ eyes for a quick moment. “It was around six years ago. Black Spider had grabbed my dad and was going to kill him. You and GA…saved him.”

Artemis looks at Ollie, about to glare at him because  _I thought the files said her father was dead,_ but upon seeing Ollie’s somber expression, she realizes the truth. That while yes: they may have saved him at one point – the Shadows still got to him when they weren’t around, and he still died, and  _shit, she can’t turn this girl away now_.

Instead, she tries to think back and remember the moment Cissie is talking about. However, six years ago might as well be one hundred years; it feels a whole universe away – where all they were worried about was getting respect from the League, and trying not to embarrass themselves. A different place where they didn’t have to worry about aliens invading – where there were no deep cover missions or alien-controlled teammates or boyfriends who had to run to save the world and disappeared into nothing.

“I…don’t remember that,” she says, finally pulling away from musing, “sorry.”

Cissie shrugs. “It was ages ago.”

Two more milkshakes are set onto the table, and Ollie mutters something about needing (hah!  _Needing_ ) to talk to Franco. He leave the booth, plummeting the two girls right back into an awkward silence.

Artemis notes Cissie’s suspicious looks around the diner and smirks into her cup. “It’s a dump, isn’t it?”

The girl darts a glance towards Ollie, before leaning forward. “Is this  _really_  the best place in the city for milkshakes?”

“Ollie believes it is, but…” The two of them turn and watch the Green Arrow as he chats amiably with Franco and the other worker behind the counter. “Well, I wouldn’t really say he’s the best judge…” Artemis adds, and Cissie hides a laugh behind her hand.

“So,” Artemis says, trying to keep the ball rolling, “what made you decide to become put on a costume?”

Cissie looks up from her cup. “Honestly? Because my mum said it was a horrible idea.”

Artemis sends her a confused look, and the girl shrugs.

“I usually ask my mum advice on stuff – then do the exact opposite of what she says.”

Artemis smirks, and affirms that they’re going to get along just fine.

* * *

“So…what do you think?”

“What do I think about what?” Artemis smirks as she hears Ollie huff. They’ve dropped Cissie back at her house (through the window – without telling her mum. Artemis silently commends her for it), and are walking back to the zeta tube in the middle of the city.

“Well, what do you think about mentoring her?” Ollie says. “You two seemed to be getting along well at Franco’s.”

“Oh, we were just teasing you. Anyone can begin to get along through doing that.”

“Yeah, I’m the butt of every joke – I get it. But Artemis,” he steps in front of her and meets her eyes. “ _What do you think?_  Do you think you’ll want to take her as a protégé? Because I can tell you, she seems pretty excited about it.”

Artemis narrows her eyes at the ground, before looking up towards Ollie. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. I’ll do it. I’ll be her mentor.”

Ollie smiles. “That’s good to hear.”

“But first I’m going to have to talk to her about that skirt.”


End file.
